


Chicken Fried Steak

by CassieRaven



Category: Bandom, Mindless Self Indulgence (Band), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Band Fic, Band Tours, Bands, Comfort Food, Cute, Declarations Of Love, Desperate Gerard Way, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Frank Iero Is A Little Shit, Frank and Mikey are the best, Gen, GerZ - Freeform, Gerard Loves Lindsey, Gerard Way is a Sweetheart, Hotels, Humor, Jennifer "Kitty" Dunn is the best ally ever Gerard could ask for, Language, Lindsey Ballato is amused, Love, MCR, Mikey Way is the best ever, Mild Language, No Ferard here sorry, Out of Character, PR Tour 2007, Post-MCR, Post-MSI, Projeckt Revolution, Projeckt Revolution Tour 2007, Project Revolution Tour, RPF, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Room Service, Sassy Gerard Way, Shy Gerard Way, Swearing, The things a guy does for love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touring, Tours, True Love, chicken fried steak, mindless self indulgence - Freeform, msi - Freeform, my chemical romance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieRaven/pseuds/CassieRaven
Summary: During the Projekt Revolution Tour of  Summer 2007, MCR’s frontman Gerard’s in love with MSI’s bassist Lindsey (Lyn-Z), so what’s a man in love to do when they're staying at the same hotel while on tour? Attempt to win her heart with a nice meal, and have room service take it up to her hotel room, that’s what.
Relationships: Lindsey Ballato & Gerard Way, Lindsey Ballato/Gerard Way
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Chicken Fried Steak

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, Happy Tuesday.  
> This one-shot fanfiction story was an old unedited story from my band fanfiction writing days when I had used to be on Deviant Art and LiveJournal years ago, where I had my old Band and Harry Potter fanfiction stories posted online at. After finding this story unedited, old in a various band fandom writing file on my USB flash drives I had been browsing through on my laptop, I had decided to look over this specific story. Then I had decided why not just look over it, reread it, then rewrite it and repost it to share with anyone who’s a fan of either band My Chemical Romance or Mindless Self Indulgence, that would be interested in wanting to read this old story. 
> 
> The story originally, was all thanks to some fellow band fan friends of mine who, like myself, adored both MyChemicalRomance and MindlessSelfInduglence named “Kathleen/Katrina” and “Becca” had inspired me to write this. So this is dedicated to them even though Kathleen/Katrina and Becca from my knowledge have both retired from their art and band fandom writing days on both Deviant Art and LiveJournal blogging.  
> (This story is not Beta-Read, so far warning, read at your own risk.)  
> Enjoy reading everyone.

* * *

**Prompt/Drabble:** Chicken Fried Steak, Food, Hotels, Room Service, A Guy that’s in love with a girl of his dreams. 

**Ship:** Lindsey Ballato/Gerard Way, Gerard Way/Lindsey Ballato, Gerard/Lyn-Z (Ger-Z) 

**Title:** Chicken Fried Steak

* * *

  
  


Chicken fried steak, which was a piece or aspect of ground beef or less expensive steak beaten flat, then battered and cooked fried up the same as fried chicken.

It was only a chicken fried steak; how challenging could it be to prepare it for one's dinner? It was turning into something becoming more difficult for Gerard Way. There he was, inside the kitchens of the Hilton Hotel, struggling to make a southern dish by himself without the help or assistance of kitchen staff. It used to be exceptionally remarkable what can occur when a top hotel allows a rock band's lead singer to have a kitchen after late-night hours to explain why they desired to cook. (He had been willing to fork over a few hundred dollar bills to persuade the kitchen staff of the hotel to let him get away with borrowing the kitchen for a certain amount of time, with no questions asked.)

The current scene all through the kitchen was just no longer pretty due to the fact it was complete chaos.

Cold steel counters were all covered in splatters of all-purpose flour, cracked eggshells, spilled cornmeal combination, and spices. Smoke lined the air as the green-hazel-eyed man in his thirties tried to stop the grease-oil steak from over-frying the two battered steaks.

"Oh, Damn! Shit! Shit! Maybe I'm not supposed to over-dip them in that batter for too long.

Unless there was just too much extra oil I used, " he cried out loud, trying not to panic.

At least it helped take a few minutes to turn off the fire on the stove, and at least move the battered meat out of the skillet pan.

My Chemical Romance's lead singer, Gerard, was a mess. His Iron Maiden t-shirt and black denim jeans were all worn alongside the hotel logo white apron covered in grease, buttermilk, and cornmeal. How a few pieces of eggshells and moist flour acquired into his jet black hair was unclear. The fried chicken-like portions of steak did not appear so great. Instead of being flawlessly golden or light brown, the deep-fried skin crisped was a deep darkish brown.

"This is all so fuckin' terrific, these pieces of meat just don't make it look like the fried steaks in the fucking recipe photo of the cookbook. At least the macaroni, the collard greens, and the grits look like they're supposed to be," he sighed with some relief that the rest of the meal didn't look a hundred percent crappy.

Why was Gerard attempting to make a dish of southern comfort foods? Comfort was precisely why. He desired to provide some support to someone who was dying for comfort; That person he wanted to impress and make that meal for a fellow musician and acquaintance of his. Her name was Lindsey Ballato, the bassist for the punk alternative electric band called Mindless Self Indulgence. Gerard had first encountered Lindsey along with her bandmates back in his earlier days years previously when My Chemical Romance had first started playing, once opening for MSI at CBGB's, a famous punk venue in New York City.

Gerard's time having gotten to try to get to know Lindsey at that point in their past had been short. Unfortunately for Gerard, their paths had separated when their bands had taken different routes concerning touring in destinations. Lindsey with Mindless Self Indulgence had taken off to parts unknown in America on their continuing tour with a band System of a Down. Gerard had with his bandmates of My Chemical Romance took off to Japan and the United Kingdom to open up for acts Green Day and Jimmy Eat World. Gerard honestly had thought back-then, that he had lost his chance ever trying to connect with or much less would ever see Lindsey again. He had been stunned when having been on the first flight traveling to join in on the 2007 summer Projekt Revolution Tour...at which band was on the same tour among the various smaller stage acts. It was Mindless Self Indulgence. He had never imagined that he would ever be reunited with Lindsey again.

  
  


Seeing her again on this tour so far had been quite amazing to him.

While the fans on the tour grounds at each big city stop flocked to the Main Stage to see My Chemical Romance headlining with other bands like Linkin Park, Taking Back Sunday. Along with others like His Infernal Majesty also, known as HIM for short, Placebo and Julien-K perform; Other fans were flocking to the other music acts that were equally dominating the smaller stage. Mindless Self Indulgence on the Revolution Stage was killing it in their performance alongside other yet still popular bands Saosin, The Bled, Styles of Beyond, and Madina Lake.

Lindsey was once a more badass of a female musician now. The bass player was exactly like her other bandmates had gone by a stage alter ego name of a moniker calling herself "Lyn-Z."

  
  


Lindsey or referred to as "Lyn-Z" wasn't the brunette who used to be nervously stumbling on strumming her bass and making an endeavor not to fall while performing with her bandmates James (Little Jimmy Urine), Jennifer (Kitty), and Steve (Steve Righ?) on stage at a club. The woman's abilities to be capable of doing excessive leaps and jumps in the air down to her extraordinary lower back bending moves impressed him; as much as she naturally had a calm laid back mindset with her bandmates and with absolutely everyone else on the road. Within that first week of the tour, getting to understand her in pleasant conversations in between sets, breaks, and hanging out when they weren't with their band families…Gerard had fallen head over heels hard in love with the creative, fun-loving bassist.

Thus, this was entirely why the man was in the hotel kitchen, standing in one hell of a mess. See, Gerard earlier that morning as he was walking around the hotel room on the band's room floor was having some alone time. Gerard had been trying earlier evening to take a break from working on his comic series 'The Umbrella Academy': which was going fine. It was then suddenly then when he had run into MSI's drummer Jennifer also known as Kitty. Gerard had immediately grown concerned when she had mentioned Lindsey (Lyn-Z) was feeling a bit down in the dumps. When he asked what the problem was, the pig-tailed pink-red haired woman assured him she was perfectly fine.

It was just that Lindsey was starting to feel a little homesick on the road. The bassist and artist lacked having a home-cooked meal from home while she had grown worn-out of the consistent hotel take out, pit stops to pick out convenience-stores, or cheap fast food rapid places, and Seven-Eleven junk meals on the road daily. Wanting to understand more, Gerard kept strolling with Kitty to the ice machine. He politely continued inquiring more information with her with politeness for extra details as she retrieved ice for her and the woman on his mind considering both ladies had been dying for ice with their bottles of a sprite. The summertime warmth was getting to them. The second he asked what used to be something of a meal that her best friend was once missing from home, the wheels in his thought had been turning as she had replied, "Oh, simply a home-cooked meal of some chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and some grits. Zoid said her Grandma's version of them tastes a whole lot better than the garbage plate versions they make at the fucking Denny's we stopped at last weekend." The drummer had explained.

Kitty had been very surprised when she looked up, discovering Gerard taking off down the corridor bolting into the nearest open elevator calling back, "It was fantastic talking to you, Kitty! Thanks! Enjoy the bucket of ice!!!"

That was why he was tearing up the kitchens of the hotel after convincing them two hours in the past to let him have it to himself, and there was one hell of a mess of World War II everywhere. Once the light bulb notion of making a home-cooked meal and bringing it up using the potential of room service shock trend was once as soon as planted like a seed in his head, it wouldn't stop.

"I might not be a warlock master in cooking things like Frankie is, but at least I didn't burn myself or get stunned as Mikey has," Gerard mumbled to himself.

He couldn't help but smirk as he was remembering and referring to the time his brother Mikey had electrocuted himself all thanks to prying a metallic fork into a plugged-in toaster.

But just before Gerard could assume to figure out whether or not he should start over with cooking again. And whether he should call it quits and throw away the mess of trashed dishes...a phone began ringing!

It was the telephone hanging on the corner wall of the kitchen that was ringing loudly much to the musician's dismay.

"Oh no, I thought the head chef said no one would be ordering something now. Shit! Crap…and I doubt it has an answering machine. Better pick it up and just inform whoever it is no one's potential to cook," he shook, sounding apprehensive as he picked up the kitchen's call telephone off of the close-by wall's hook.

"Hello…um this is the hotel kitchen of the Hilton hotel, Gerado…speaking…how may additionally I assist you?" Gerard tried to remain 'calm' and clear speaking.

"Hi, This is Ms. Lindsey Ballato; my room number is 388 on the twentieth floor. I used to be thinking if I ought to get some room carriers delivered to my room if it isn't too much trouble." A woman's gentle voice spoke from the other end of the line calm tiredly.

_'Holy shit, it's Lindsey! Shit, of all the nights, why did she have to be the one to name the hotel's kitchen room service. Okay, don't panic, be cool! Just honestly bullshit her, you just lie to her, and she'll dangle up changing her thinking and will go out with a bodyguard escort or just Kitty, Steve, or Jimmy to get taken out or something,'_ Gerard thinking to himself quietly.

"Lyn---Ahem! Oh, I am so sorry, Ms. Ballato. But the kitchens are closed for the night. We won't be doing any greater room services for the evening. I recommend trying the Italian restaurant that's three blocks away from our hotel." He tried mendacity smoothly.

"Really? That's humorous because I had just called the motel front desk a few minutes ago, and they had assured me you have been open all night time long. Twenty-four hours round the clock food carrier for all guests, whether they are tourists, businessmen, or just tired musicians. So can I please order something to consume and drink? I've had a hard week of visiting. After eating night after night of horrifying quick food I'm craving anything from the hotel," the bassist's female voice sighed with tiredness and pleading, which just made Gerard sigh with pity.

"Hello? Are you still there? Sir? Hello? Did you hang up on me?" Lindsey's voice on the difference gives up the line echoed in questions.

"Huh? Oh no, Ma'am! I am still here! What is it that you'd like to order tonight?" Gerard quickly stated just trying to hope he should maintain it together while waiting for her to reply and trying to keep his fingers crossed that she didn't prefer to order something insane like escargot snails or lobster tails.

"Well, I hope this doesn't sound too bizarre or too a good deal to ask for but, I was wondering if your kitchen cooks should make me a southern dish. Any kind of southern dish would be fine. I didn't see any listed on the room service menu booklet that I located with the welcoming papers on my dresser. If it can't just be-prepared perfectly, then it's flawlessly okay. I'll be first-rate with simply having a plate of pasta and grilled rooster with an aspect order of a cobb salad, and a glass of cold iced tea." Lindsey spoke, sounding like she was once sitting in her motel room somewhere, searching over the room's room provider's little booklet menu.

"A southern home-style dish? That Ms. Ballato…can be something arranged. I'll have one of our motels staffed waiters convey it proper up to your hotel room straight away when it's finished", Gerard said without questioning or even hesitating as he heard a sighing of shock remedy on the other end of the line.

"Thank you so much! It means a lot to me. I'll be positive to have my band's manager heavily tip you and your cooks for doing this for me. You know…your voice. I don't understand why but it sounds acquainted to me. Do you happen to have a jersey accent? I swear you sound like someone I know. Lindsey's voice started speaking earlier than she had been straight away cut off as the line on her end-stopped thanks to Gerard's rapid thinking to cease the call right away right then and there.

"Close call…thank god for the hangup button. Okay, So Lindsey wants a southern dish. She'll get just that hopefully, she has a robust stomach." the man sighed, eyes drifting over to the counter space and the stove of the place the meal's pieces laid.

* * *

_'Okay…left, right, left-right, left-right. The elevator door open! Go, go, and go! Whew! The fangirls didn't see me!'_ Gerard, thinking with full adrenaline relief.

The musician was nevertheless in his messy clothes while sporting the outer waiter jacket he had observed in the kitchen staff's coat pegs area. Getting safely to the elevators leading to the twentieth ground was difficult, that he made it. Nineteen ringing dings in the elevator shaft later, he had made it to the floor level they had been residing. Trying to stroll and elevate the tray at the same time, Gerard walked carefully and quietly down the hallways after exiting the elevator. All of the halls appeared to have been quiet.

The only other individual in the walkway was a hotel security guard taking a nap in a chair in the center. The hired security guard on patrol to make entirely sure that no rabid fans or the stalker kind of characters couldn't get on the ground where two of the bands were residing for the night while the other bands' HIM and Linkin Park had been on the floor above them.

Once reaching room number 388, it was time for the final test. To see if he could cautiously place the tray on the carpet-rugged floor, then knock on her door, and then bolt. The rock superstar then with caution positioned it gently on the ground next to the door and then took an anxiously, quiet deep breath.

_'Okay, Gerard, take it easy, simply knock on the damn door, and then take off around the corner.'_ Gerard tried to silently try to supply himself ample wonderful pep-talk in his head.

In three seconds, he immediately pounded on the door knocker of the door, and then took off running, quick as lightning to the corner of the hallway hiding. He closed his eyes while breathing so heavy as he heard the door open and determined to take a small peak around the corner. Lindsey was looking around confused as to why her tray of room service wasn't on a cart or why there wasn't a hotel room service waiter next to it. After searching around for a few more minutes, the bass player picked up the tray of food and a drink closing the door as her roommate Kitty asked her if her meal had arrived.

"Thank god I can run regardless of being a chain smoke-alcoholic." Gerard wheezed with a sigh of complete relief.

His mission was official, accomplished, and completed. And man, did he feel like wanting a cigarette right about then.

* * *

"Well? Did you see her devour it? What did she say? Did she revel in it? Did she appreciate the taste of her favorite home-cooked meal? Huh? Come on, Kitty, just provide me details! Please!" Gerard pleaded with Kitty, as he accompanied her after her walking, being satisfied no one else from their bands, tour staff, crew, or tour managers were around them at that moment to listen in.

"Well…this damn well explains absolutely why I wasn't able to get through to the room service staff in the kitchens last night. No one answered when I tried calling after Lindsey placed in her order. I was planning on ordering some chicken noodle soup with a few saltine crackers that were shaped like these oyster shaped things and some honey natural tea stuff. I was fucking hungry, Gerard, Starving! I had to resort to going to the vending machines at the end of the floor to get junk food and soda to eat! You bribed the damn resort kitchen staff to let you Shanghai the area to make her a meal, didn't you crazy man?" Kitty sighed as she straight away questioned him as she eyed with him a raised eyebrow that had some enjoyment with seriousness.

"Yeah…so what if I did? Like it wasn't that tough to throw a few hundred dollar bills at them to let me do it. They let freaking Madonna down to William Shatner of Star Trek do it all the time in Beverly Hills. Sorry if my last master plan had caused you to starve last night. But it was for the greater good! Of attempting to win your best friend's heart," he snorted back with a cocky look in his eyes while attempting to light up the cigarette in his fingers as they had been then strolling out of the hotel after they had checked out a while previously that morning.

"You suggest those who are cocky jerky celebs and musicians. Not me, thank you very much. Okay, to answer your question, Mr. I can't wait anymore and demand an answer from Chef Emeril Way. I did witness my fantastic friend and bandmate devour it. I watched her take small bites out of it after slicing up the steak and then went into eating the grits and whatever else you put on that plate. She appeared to be capable of the stomach. I know I couldn't, it smelled awful. Be grateful Jimmy wasn't in there or he would have called hotel management questioning they had been attempting to food poison murder her," Kitty sniggered.

"So that's good, right? Do you think she appreciated it? Do you suppose she knows that it's me?" Gerard wondered, going for the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his worn-out Smashing Pumpkins hoodie he had casually on.

Before Kitty could reply to his question, they caught sight of Lindsey stepping outside of the hotel with Jimmy. The lead singer of MSI was yawning and rubbing his eyes as Lindsey passed him a cup of coffee, to which Jimmy had seemed to be grateful to be given as he started consuming the coffee beverage immediately. The ebony-haired woman with her companion in caffeine crime Steve had gotten up early to do a Starbucks run for their completely satisfied little musical quartet. Gerard's eyes observed her every move. Watching, as she had headed to the rented car, a sports utility vehicle they'd be using on their ride to the next stadium for the Projekt Revolution tour, he watched Steve and Jimmy enter first alongside their to-go cups of Starbucks.

"Well, it appears like we're off now that our rides are here. Catch you later, Gerard! You Casanova." Kitty smiled, giving him a quick hug and pat on his shoulder earlier than she took off with her purse and a single day, a bag to join Jimmy and Steve in their rented S waiting.

"Later Kitty," Gerard casually mumbled, searching on he watched Lindsey appear like she was once about to step into the lower back seat of that same car after placing her bags into the back trunk…she all at once stopped and turned, searching straight at him.

  
  


She was once smiling warmly at him, removing her vintage dark shades colors off her face, and on to the pinnacle of hair that was all bundled up in a messy ponytail. Gerard continued to appear with puzzled eyes, and lips frowned; At least until she walked over to him.

His pack of smokes he was attempting to dig for in his hoodie minutes ago was forgotten. He did not feel like wanting to smoke any more.

"Good morning Gerard, or perhaps ought to I call you Geraldo? Thanks for the late-night supper last night," Lindsey drawled, her crimson lipstick lips smiling brightly at him as he at once seemed caught off guard.

"What? I don't understand what you're talking about Lindsey. What late-night dinner? Who is this Geraldo you are talking of?" Gerard tried right away, trying to deny, his face flushing in crimson blush.

"You're so adorable when you suck at lying. I know it was you. Well, I didn't, at first, when I called room service till your Jersey accent began coming out a bit more as you kept speaking all worried and funny. Then when you hung up on me, The room service all of sudden arrived, I put two and two together," Lindsey explained rather quietly while having a delighted look in her deep brown eyes as her lips curved into an even greater loving smile.

"Damn, you are smart. Um, yeah…guilty. It used to be uh me," Gerard sighed, his hands in the air while questioning if she'd say something else. God, he had hoped she would keep speaking to him, stalling extra instead of going to her ride, that was nevertheless being all held.

"That was sweet of you. To go through all that bother making me a kind of home-cooked meal. I loved it. You may want to use a few spices in the mix, perhaps not overdo it too much on the oil or battering-coating the steaks. The grits had been a little grainy, and however, sweet. Maybe at the next hotel, in the next town or state, we'll be staying at; I could give you a few cooking instructions and pointers on making the fantastic chicken fried steak." Lindsey spoke, offering to look greater amused as she watched the man before her who was turning even more flushed in his face and loving- looking ears, sweating bullets.

"Come again? What do you mean you and me, having cooking instructions all alone? Really?!" Gerard nearly choked, taken aback on his words, feeling like a million little butterflies had been busy fluttering in his guts.

"Yes. I'm serious. I thought it'd be cool to do. We can have a little extra time to hang out. Plus, I suppose you're incredibly cute. Oh, let me get that out of your hair. You have a few batter pieces with some grits caught in your hair," Lindsey stated as she carefully picked the portions of bloodless batter and grits out of his raven hair he regarded at her with full shock.

"There. Now you are perfect. I'll see you around at the arena we're scheduled to play. Oh um. Thanks again for dinner. It means a lot to me. It just helped cheer me up being a little homesick and all. You truly are great." Lindsey started with sincerity as she smiled warmly.

Then suddenly, she gave him a rapid hug and suddenly a quick kiss on his cheek as she took off dashing into the rental car, as the rest of her bandmates all had been cheering, hooting, and hollering at the sight they had simply seen.

Gerard simply continued to stand there in shock till his brother Mikey came out from the other vehicle parked there, standing right in front of him. Gerard simply continued to stare in his haze of shock till he felt at once a smack to his shoulder snapped him out of it. He blinked his eyes as he watched entertainment in his little brother's eyes stare at him, realizing it was him, Mikey, who had smacked him.

"Well, it appears like someone has got himself a girlfriend to keep him from being a moped grumpy cat emo-kid on tour. So…will we have to put earplugs in our ears if you bring her on the bus to share your bunk at night? Are you going to go plan sleepovers on her band's bus? Better hope Jimmy doesn't catch you fooling around sneaking with her or else he'll murder you. Or Steve, They seem to be protective like killer big brothers to her," The youthful Way brother joked with an evil amused smirk while Frankie, Ray, and Bob all had been snickering and cracking jokes from inside the second car.

"SHUT UP! She isn't my girlfriend yet. We're just friends! I just made her dinner to cheer her up! Shut up, Frankie! Don't you dare go there! No, Bob, we're not going to be doing any messing around! I know how to treat a lady with respect, thank you! Mikey, don't you dare begin spewing that romance crap, or I'm telling Alicia!" Gerard began shouting, searching flushed in his face as he chased after his brother the bassist, the youthful Way cackling in evil laughter.

  
  


* * *

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it, that had been my first ever band or bandom fanfiction story I had ever written and once had posted online. What did everyone think? Thoughts? Did anyone like it, enjoy it, or love it? Feel free to leave any thoughts, feedback, or comments if you have any. (Any comments/reviews that aren’t really or necessarily actually “constructive criticism comments” will be ignored if they're actually rude.) 
> 
> I might consider rewriting, re-editing all of my other old band fan fiction stories of MCR or MSI I had written previously years prior, to repost them up here on Ao3. Maybe. 
> 
> Have good day readers, fellow band fans out there, be safe out there in these times of Covid-19 everybody.


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